


through words and sorrows

by luvparadox



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2019-10-08 08:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17382776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvparadox/pseuds/luvparadox
Summary: In which an author and celebrity cross paths, worlds clash, but somehow, some way, clicked together like two peas in a pod.





	1. beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything except this idea and I don't know Tom Hiddleston or any public figure mentioned here. This is my first fic. English is not my first language. Comments are appreciated, suggestions and thoughts even more so. Please bear with me!

Shuffling. A click, then there was a light. Its orange glow illuminated the cold room. Stillness, a forced take of breath. A gulp. The stiffness of the room was unflappable.

 

Shuffling. A crack was heard. A woman, on her early thirties rose from the bed and let out a yawn. Her partially shadowed face screams weariness, of lack of sleep and loneliness. She closed her eyes, plastered a big smile on her face, her tiredness masked with the force on her cheekbones.

 

"Another day, another time to rush because I'm late!!!" she suddenly leaped out of her bed, blew out her scented candle and scrambled out of the room. With no time to spare she didn't eat breakfast, headed straight to the bathroom, didn't even bother to wash her hair.

 

"I'm late, I'm late, I'm late. Mama, I'm so sorry your daughter grew up like this." she chanted while trying to fix her tangled hair. "Skin care routine? Make up? I don't know them." she murmured while powdering her face. She glanced to the clock next to her bedside mirror and promptly hastened her pace.

 

Minutes later, she stepped out of her house near the beach. The cold winds slammed into her as she cursed because she forgot her scarf. Before she turned, she spotted people walking along the pebbled beach. A tall man linked with a blonde woman who looks like a tourist and an older woman not too far away.

 

She dismissed it immediately, not knowing she just had a glimpse of the man who would change her entire life.

* * *

 

Leanne, 32, a novelist, friendly, pretty at times, was currently running. Not that she likes running, don't get her wrong. She doesn't like running, she's running literally from her publisher, who is demanding updates about her on-going and unfinished book. She was a nobody really, she likes reading even from an early age. She discovered she had quite a bit of talent with words but only in stories. She doesn't have the capacity to write a Science book, even though she likes Science. She doesn't know how to put the right words sometimes. But that's okay. She published her books under a pseudonym, like other authors do, to protect herself. Leanne doesn't really like fame, not really. It pays the bills, yes. Though at times, she wonders, if everything is worth it. Will this be her life forever? Behind masks, behind fake names, behind a cozy house but not a home?

 

Leanne likes her solitude. She doesn't trust anyone. Not after shit happened three years ago, which will be discussed later on. She likes to help people though, she has friends. She has acquaintances all over the world. But that's that. Leanne dislikes bars, crowded places. Maybe that's why she took solace near a beach, Aldeburgh beach. Suffolk was near home. Home, a strange concept now. She grew up in London, but was born in Kyoto, Japan. Her father, a stubborn man with a warm heart, half Japanese, half American met her mother in the States while he was visiting her grandmother.

 

How did they even end up in England in all places? She doesn't know. But she vaguely remembered her mother's journals. Her mother's bucketlist. Her mother's dream. Lisa Suzuki was a kind woman who loves everything connected to nature. When they found out she was dying, they immediately moved out of London and went North, to Cumbria. There lay her mother, until her dying breath. Her father not too long after that, of heartache.

 

With promises of giving her update some time this week, Leanne rushed out of the building with a sigh of relief. Writer's block is every writer's worse nightmare. Now that she's out of the woman's wrath (cause really, Samantha is a devil who wears cheap clothes but with great style), she dug for her list of chores to be done that day and settled for getting breakfast first before anything else.

 

In a nice quaint restaurant, Leanne found herself in her usual place but stopped when she saw someone already sitted there. With the perfect lighting, the scene looked picturesque. It looks like something out of a painting. Something you would put in a museum. He looks extraordinary in this world of ordinary. Inspite of this, Leanne, feeling affronted, she turned away with a huff and looked for a place to eat her breakfast peacefully. Leanne is not territorial at all nor she a routine person (she knows deep inside she is). She doesn't have a name written on that table... or chair. Although she's a regular and employees, even the owner, know her, she doesn't have a right to be upset just because some tourist found her perfect spot.

 

Sighing, she resigned and greeted Marie, a waitress and her friend, ordered her usual, and with a knowing smirk from Marie, willed herself not to glare at the tourist, but with a double take she took note that the tourist, was quite handsome.

 

"No, Lili." she chided herself (yes, she have her own nickname to herself). "You do not give your sit up to anyone even if he is handsome. Even if he's 6 ft tall. Even if he has brown hair, okay. You do not give up."

 

As if sensing her gaze, the the man looked around until he met her eyes, Leanne momentarily forgot what she was about to say to herself. She lifted her gaze, instead staring at a blank spot in the wall because it is so interesting. Yes, it is interesting. With ants crawling and termites eating, yes. She grimaced, not liking where her thoughts were leading.

 

She still felt his gaze upon her, but Leanne doesn't want to look again. For fear of embarassing herself, for fear of something, something she doesn't want to involve herself in.

 

_"Be still, my heart."_

 

She prayed and prayed for some sort of intervention and was granted when Grant, a waiter, served her breakfast with her morning tea. She thanked him, and fully dedicated herself to eating her breakfast and forgetting about the man with captivating blue eyes. Who, she thought, "I'll probably not meet again in this lifetime."

 

And boy she hoped she was wrong.

 

Well she was wrong, not that she knew it that time.

* * *

 

 

The second time Leanne saw the man again, two years had passed. Her novels she published became New York Time's Best Seller; she never thought it would happen. Her novels, also have a new protagonist. A man with sea blue eyes who is deep down broken by his experiences. Now, she still writes, the last of the series. But just like when this story started, she was battling the nightmare which is the writer's block.

 

She decided, blowing her scented candle, that it is time to reacquaint herself with the beach. The beach is a significant part of her life, because her mother always loved it. Walking along its shore, despite of the chilly air, Leanne found comfort, like finally returning home after a long day of stress.

 

She situated herself in a bench, right in the middle where she feels she can see everything. There she relaxed, one by one removed her masks, revealing the lonely girl from five years ago, with no one to go to, no one to turn to. No one to trust but herself.

 

Her career, her success, everything she achieved was useless without her family. Without someone to come home to. Now, 34, still no boyfriend, still no someone. 5 years of solitude, will it ever end?

 

Leanne pushed away those thoughts and looked to her right, sensing someone. A few feet of her, she saw a familiar man looking forlornly to the beach, weariness painted on his form. _He was familiar_ , a voice told her. _But when?_

 

Something clicked, the man before. The man like art. But it was not the same man. He looks lost. She remembered his bright eyes, he was tired but he looks like he was at the top of his game, now replaced by dullness. _What happened?_

 

Leanne is not sociable, no, not at all. She hates talking to people actually. How to talk to a man who needs something? A guide? Someone? She creeped closer until she was only an arm away and said, "A dollar for your thoughts?"

 

Startled, he snapped his eyes towards her, brown met blue. Rich chocolate met aquamarine. Connection, understanding.

 

"Is that all its worth?" he replied with deep, and suave, voice. Her lips involuntarily lifted, as if they weren't used to frowning before. Something bloomed in her chest when she heard his voice, something clicked. Suddenly all was right in the universe, nothing else mattered. God, she could listen to him talk probably all year.

 

"Two dollars. Anything more than that I'd be broke before this conversation continues." she stated, with a cheeky smile gracing her face. Eyes alight like never before, she introduced herself. "Leanne."

 

"Tom."

 

"Like the cat?"

 

He chuckled, "Like the cat."

 

"Like Hanks??"

 

"Like Hanks." He seemed amused.

 

She hummed.

 

With a click of her tongue, she said, "Nice to meet you Tom like Hanks."


	2. in- betweens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't personally know Tom Hiddleston or any celebrity mentioned here. I own my OCs are mine. Happy 38th birthday to T. Hiddles!

Leanne, as a child, was behaved unlike kids her age. When others play, she watched. When they talk to each other, she watched. She didn’t climb trees, didn’t scraped her knees, but most of all, she was lonely. Sure, there is entertainment when you not-so-subtlety judge others, but she also wants to join, to laugh. In finding her solace she discovered that she prefers her imagination, rather than her reality.

 

Before her parents died, Leanne experienced something that will leave her broken for a long time. A first love. Back then, she thought every love was pure. And just like her parents meeting and falling in love, she wanted something that will be like that. So when young Leanne met Arthur, she fell hook, line and sinker. Arthur was every girls’ dream back then. He was charming, he’s into sports therefore it made him automatically one of the ‘cool’ guys. He dated a lot. In fact, he was a playboy. But he was charming, and it didn’t help that Lisa Suzuki approved of him. That made him win Leanne’s heart. They dated for weeks, but Leanne found out he was cheating when she surprised him for their third month anniversary. He dumped her not long after. Leanne was in denial, she cried and cried. No one could placate her. If her parents’ noticed her rimmed eyes for a few weeks, they didn’t say it. Leanne broke her own heart that time.

 

She tried dating again, after a year and a half, but under the same circumstances, she broke her heart again. From there, she learned not to get close to people, and only trusted her parents. But then, they found out her mother was dying. It broke her heart more.

 

There came a time Leanne used her imagination, her reading and writing, to escape. Especially after her parents’ deaths, she just wants to stay there. Where she can do whatever she wants, where there is no struggle. There is always laughter. Leanne thought her heart was dead, and whenever she wakes up in the morning, she feels it.

 

Then another problems comes in, depression. Living alone with her mother and father’s last memories in the house, it became too much for Leanne. After a rough week, she was found by the newspaper boy, with wrists slits. She was in the hospital for a long time until it was deemed she was okay, functional, not suicidal. Leanne started to cope and grieve and accept the things she cannot change. She realized it was not worth it, and slowly, she remembered her salvation, her mind.

 

Now living alone and nothing to do, Leanne started watching tons of films of different genre. Titanic never failed to make her bawl her eyes out. Nicholas Sparks’ movies too. Maybe if she got tired of writing she can be a movie critic or something. All these thoughts in her head while staring at the forehead of one of her worse dates ever.

 

Leanne, now 29, kind of craves the warm feeling back when she was little. Family. So she started looking for someone. Online dating, then meetups, but in the end, they weren’t just what she’s looking for. They were looking for one night stands, sex, and only temporary. She needs an anchor. Stability.

 

As the night comes to an end and after her ‘date’ dumped her on her doorstep, Leanne leaned on the back of her door, listening as the sound of engine get further and further away.

 

A crash was heard. Sobs, not soon after.

 

* * *

 

Now sitting beside a man, Tom, she wondered if she could ever love again. Fully, deeply, like how she loved Arthur. Gazing into his eyes, maybe, maybe she could. Maybe he wants stability, maybe he wants an anchor too, like her. Maybe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think.


	3. in the space between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inhale. Exhale.

They stayed near the shore until sunset. The orange glow giving one last light to the world as it sinks seemingly at the line of the ocean.

 

Tom, her companion, is a wonderful speaker and great conversationalist. Leanne knows her way with words as she chose writing as a profession, but Tom is different. He describes experiences with great detail, with so much passion - it's illegal. Leanne felt bad because while she was hanging onto Tom's every word, Tom was venting. He have this quiet rage that made her think of the Cold War.

 

He was venting about other people, about the society, the media, his life. In turn, Leanne sympathized with him, she had her fair share of dealing with the outrageous media. He waves his hand as it shapes things that only his eye could see - Leanne was captivated. He vented a lot. He was frustrated. He explained a lot of things and at the same time nothing.

 

They walked along the shore at some point. The sand scrunches beneath their feet and the ocean licks their shoes. Sometimes, human connection amazes Leanne. This joy she feels, of having someone she could really talk to, someone who really understands.

 

 _"So this is what it feels like."_ She thought. Now she understands why some people chase other people just for happiness. But she would not venture that road today.

 

So as the sun goes down, the two shared secret smiles, of relieved breaths and walked to their own separate ways.

 

* * *

  


The third time Leanne saw Tom was in Twitter while she was lazily scrolling through stuff with still a writer's block and was surprised when she saw a picture of him with a blonde she vaguely recognizes as Taylor Sweet or something like that. She really needs to update herself with this artists and the like.

 

Before she read the article, she saw that Taylor _Swift_ , she mentally scolded herself, wrote an album and one of the songs were thought dedicated to Tom _Hiddleston -_  the prick who forgot to mention he was famous as hell. She thought back at the beach, his rants and frustrations and facepalmed because she thought he was generally speaking about shit. So, she tried to listen to the songs and wondered how the heck will Tom 'like Hanks' deal with all this shit that's been going on and speculations and you know, the media because they are vultures and savage as fuck.

  


Leanne was sad for Tom, and wishes for the first time that day she had the courage to ask for his number. He would probably not give it though, and she can't blame him. Suddenly, she was struck with inspiration that made her rise from the couch she was lying in immediately. It left her dizzy and her vision turned black for a second but she scrambled to the door of her room in search for her laptop for a new plot idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think.


End file.
